


No Magnetism, Just Fists

by dellaxstreet



Series: Fight The Real Evil [3]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles Being Concerned, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Fluff, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dellaxstreet/pseuds/dellaxstreet
Summary: A text from Moira popped up. “Get on Twitter right now. It’s trendingeverywhere.”Charles exhaled a low groan. Of course it was trending. Why wouldn’t it be trending? Somewhere, he hoped, Erik was exceedingly pleased with himself.





	

It would have been difficult to say how Charles knew for certain, staring at the video Moira had forwarded him, that he was looking at Erik’s handiwork. Electronic communication was, by its very nature, immune to his mutation; it was like holding a conversation and being unable to hear what anyone was saying. He could sometimes read lips and ascertain emotional context, but it was an imperfect art. Movies were essentially put life on mute, and all recorded images on a screen followed suit. So he didn’t _know,_ the way he’d have known if it had happened in front of him.

The figure didn’t really have identifying marks, either. It wasn’t as though the man ran across the footage wearing a college hoodie or a pair of sneakers which could only be bought at one specific store. No, Erik would have been too smart for that. Which actually gave him pause for a moment – could Erik be relied on to be level-headed enough to think things through before he assaulted someone in front of a television camera?

Well. He could if it counted.

And, Charles thought, as he hit replay on the forty-five second clip again, he would definitely believe that this counted as “fighting the real enemy”. It counted as something to be careful enough about to pull his hood up and wear fleece against the weather, enough to keep from being identified by his trademark coppery auburn hair. Enough that all anyone could really see of the attacker in the footage was that he was fairly slim and about six feet tall – and had a hell of a right hook.

Slim. There, he thought, honing his gaze on the shape of the attacker, maybe even wrapped in a bulky winter coat, would be something telltale about the way it hung. But it was no use. Staring at this again and again was only going to result in his watching the same thing happen over and over again.

A text from Moira popped up. “Get on Twitter right now. It’s trending _everywhere._ ”

Charles exhaled a low groan. Of course it was trending. Why wouldn’t it be trending? Somewhere, he hoped, Erik was exceedingly pleased with himself. And if he’d felt like coming along for his boyfriend’s trip out into the melee that was protesting the Inauguration, no doubt he would be more than aware of just how pleased with himself he was at this turn of events. This was what he got for refusing to supervise.

_Just hold on until tomorrow._

Sure enough, as he clicked over, not only was it trending, but someone had already started creating the requisite spinoff art and creative output to replay the moment again and again, to backing tracks. Charles resisted the urge to bend and bang his head into the desk slowly and repeatedly.

“Tell me he’s with you right now,” he typed back to Moira.  
“Right here, grinning like an idiot.”  
“Don’t let him out of your _sight_.”

The difficulty was, as it always was in these situations, that Charles wasn’t even entirely certain he disagreed with Erik on this point. The man had been spouting rhetoric that had made his stomach turn, and he had deserved what happened next, whole-heartedly. But had it been necessary to do that on national television?

All right, he could finish this argument without Erik actually being present. Yes. Absolutely necessary. And they were back to him wanting to knock his head into the hotel room desk, slowly and repeatedly.

Opening one of the videos, he watched it play out to a particularly excellent musical selection choice, snorted in laughter, and shut the window.

Upstairs, three small children chased one another around their room while their parents tried desperately to get time alone together in the jacuzzi their suite had come with, and willed their children to quiet down. Charles considered the relative ethics of this, then nudged them softly in the direction of the television, where they settled back in watching some inane program about talking barnyard animals. In the next room, a businessman was struggling with how to tell his wife he’d packed an entirely different wardrobe for this trip, and Charles’s heart went briefly out to the man.

Then the door to the hotel room slammed open to admit Erik, grinning from ear to ear. “The crowds were horrendous! We’re going to have five times that here tomorrow for the protest!”

His enthusiasm was infectious, as it always seemed to be when he got worked up over these things. It was how he’d talked Charles into coming all the way to Washington at the end of his winter break when he’d much rather be back in New York, spending time with Raven. Of course, that was easier said than done when Raven was organizing a contingent from her own school, and his vacation had suddenly become a whirlwind of politics.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Charles said, getting up to kiss him lightly before he turned back to the window he’d left open on the computer – the original clip Moira had sent him. “Erik, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

He could sense the amusement and self-satisfaction rolling off of the other boy’s mood in sudden waves, even as he seemed to be considering whether or not he ought to lie. Then he smirked, flopping back on the bed, chin lifting in a defiant expression that seemed an outright challenge. “Is punching Nazis in the face an immoral stance now? Go ahead, Charles. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Damn him. Of course Erik would ask him to defend the relative morality of punching Nazis in the face. It was a zero sum game! Folding his arms, Charles huffed. “Bastard.”

The triumphant look on his face was enough that he was struck by the sudden urge to wipe it off completely, and before he quite knew what he was doing, Charles stalked over and shoved him back onto the mattress, pinning him down by the shoulders. The shock Erik radiated gave way to smugness as his thoughts poured images of the moments just before he’d decided to do it in the first place – anger and above all a simple need to show the man for what he _was_ , whether it made him into some sort of idiotic victim or not.

_You are utterly infuriating, do you know that, darling?_ He asked, kissing Erik as he continued to hold him in place. Under him, he could practically feel Erik vibrate with laughter.

_I thought that was one of my best qualities._

Charles let out a mental snort. _Yes, well. You would._

At the door, there came a sudden flurry of knocking, prompting an irritable round of grumbling on both their parts as Erik leaned up to kiss him breathless for another few moments. Then he pulled back and called out, “Whatever you want, come back later! We’re busy!”

From the other side of the door, Raven said, “You can still talk, so I’d say you’re not _that_ busy! Open up!”

Charles nearly choked on his laughter, but rolled off, getting to his feet to cross the room and swing the door inward. “Yes?” he asked, but she was already shoving him aside and darting into the room eagerly, marching over to where Erik was sprawled on the bed.

“Tell me that was you!” she said eagerly, eyes wide. “I mean, who _else_ do we know who would have punched a Nazi in the face?”

Hand scrubbing down his face slowly, Charles looked from his sister to his boyfriend for a long moment, while Erik appeared to be struggling very hard not to laugh. “Do you mean to tell me. That you interrupted my ability to make out with this man. Because you wanted to ask him whether or not he’d punched a Nazi?”

Raven turned luminous eyes to him, amusement dancing all over her facial expression as she ducked out of his grasp and moved over to where Erik still sat. “So was it you?”

“Of course it was me. No one else was willing to do what was necessary to shut the bastard up.” Then Erik turned his gaze to where Charles appeared to be trying very hard to remember why he didn’t just order people around all the damn time, because it was tempting, so tempting, to simply tell his sister to leave the room and have her obey him. It was tempting to tell her to leave and have her just _go._

“Raven, much as I adore you, and much as I would be happy to continue this conversation with Erik another time, I would very much appreciate it if you relocated somewhere else right now, or I’m going to call Moira. She is, if you recall, a track and field athlete, and capable of carrying you out of my hotel room, if need be.”

Charles offered his sister his sweetest and most innocent smile, the one which told her that he absolutely meant every word of this threat. Moira threw shot put, and was not to be underestimated.

“You two need to leave the honeymoon phase! It’s seriously disgusting, you know that?” Rolling her eyes, Raven threw Erik one last thumbs up and sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Was that really necessary?” asked Erik, as Charles proceeded to toss himself back down beside him, turning himself to face him.

“Absolutely. Life and death. I could not have lived another minute without resorting to such tactics under any circumstances.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re a drama queen?”

“Certainly not to my _face._ ” Smirking, Charles tugged him into another kiss.

Tomorrow, they could worry about organizing as many women and mutants as they possibly could to march on the Capitol, and what the country was facing under a lunatic. They could worry about changing the world when they hadn’t finished changing themselves yet. They could worry about whether or not it was possible to identify Erik from the video if Charles and Raven could do it.

Tonight, they were going to enjoy the victory.


End file.
